Walker AU 👀
Karen doesn’t know much about Frank Castle beyond what he’d told her when she first let him into her home. He’s a drifter, has been ever since he lost his family to the illness two and a half years ago. He spent the time that came after roaming up and down the east coast, killing every kind of walker he could find, until what he found was that he couldn’t anymore.
He’d been forced to put a bullet through his friend Bill’s head. And then he’d walked away, and never looked back.
“I’m lookin’ for a place to just – be, for a while.”
It was a sentiment Karen understood well.
“I can earn my keep here, ma’am, however you need me to. Any of the heavy-lifting, water and supply runs, chopping wood and all of that.”
He paused. “And I can protect you, for whatever that’s worth. Make sure that you’re safe. That nobody comes around trying to cause any trouble for you.”
Everyone thought she was crazy for trusting this man she’d found on her doorstep. But there was something painfully sincere about how he said it, despite the flat, hard way he held the rest of his body, and she found she couldn’t look away from him.
“He owns like four different kinds of guns,” Foggy had said, though it was clear from his tone that he had no idea how to feel about this. Whether this was supposed to go in the pro or con side of the list. Probably both, to be honest.
But at the end of the day, it was Karen’s house, and Frank was welcome in it as long as he liked.
He’s made good on his word since then – helps out around the house, silently doing the things that she asks of him without more than a “Yes, ma’am” and a “Thank you” each time, like she’s the one doing him a favor.
The others have – warmed to him would be stretching it a little, but they mostly co-exist without issue. They respect him, at least. At best, Frank makes sure they have enough drinkable water, and a good fire going at night when the weather becomes just shy of unbearably cold. At worst, he’s incredibly private and even slightly aloof, keeps to himself at mealtimes, and seems physically incapable of smiling at any of Foggy’s bad jokes.
“Are we sure he’s even human?” Foggy had stage-whispered, loud enough for Frank’s mouth to go flat while everyone else started laughing.
“Be nice.” Karen was the only one frowning when she saw Frank leave the room with a shake of his head.
She thinks she understands it – doesn’t condone it, but she understands their need to be wary around him, to not want him to get too close.
Frank had pulled the trigger on someone he knew – someone who, at some point, must have meant something to him. Karen’s heard the others speculate amongst themselves in hushed voices, wondering if this “Bill” was even a walker when he’d died.
Karen doesn’t know the answer to that – he’d never actually stated flat out, which does feel like an important omission – but if part of her cares, it’s only a small part. She doesn’t know him well, but she thinks she knows well enough that Frank’s the type of person who would only have done what he had to.
For all the time the others have spent just trying to survive, few of them have had to cross any lines. They haven’t been forced to the very edge of humanity, looked down, and found themselves staring back.
Few of them know what it’s like to kill someone they love.
